


and fall back together

by theclaravoyant



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, FitzSkimmons - Freeform, Polyamory, Post-Framework, Space Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 04:20:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11005848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theclaravoyant/pseuds/theclaravoyant
Summary: Daisy's been avoiding Fitz, but not for the reasons he thinks.Set in Post-Framework Space Prison, Fitz and Daisy have a conversation about "For her."





	and fall back together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Florchis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florchis/gifts).



> I was prompted by a friend of mine on Tumblr, florchis, I hope you like it! Here's to all the healing for these three.
> 
> Content warning: some references to Fitz/Aida & associated grossness.

Fitz sighed, his spoon scraping the bottom of his tray repetitively as he stared longingly across the room at where Daisy sat. She was alone, eating slowly and taking what he was increasingly sure was conscious effort not to look over at him and Jemma. Jemma sighed too, upon following his gaze, and dropped her spoon in frustration. 

“This is rubbish,” she declared. 

“Hm?” Fitz wondered, his attention snapping back to her. “Oh, the food? Yeah. We lived underground for years and still managed better than this, honestly.” 

He lifted the food – beans, he speculated – and let it dribble back into the tray. Jemma rolled her eyes.

“No, not the food. I mean, yes, the food, but… Daisy.” 

Fitz lowered his eyes. 

“Yeah,” he tried to jest. “I bet she’s dying for a box of cocoa and some eggs. She’d make a round of microwave cakes, d’you think?”

Jemma glared. 

“She’s avoiding you. _You_ need to deal with it.” 

Hesitantly, Fitz glanced up at her. 

“Jemma,” he breathed. The memories still burned to think about. “I tortured her. Sort of. I had her chased down a staircase and beaten. And I killed – I killed a good two-dozen people, for being like her. Of course she’s bloody avoiding me.” 

Jemma shook her head. 

“It’s not about that. Daisy knows you didn’t do those things.” 

“Doesn’t mean she can look me in the face without thinking about it.” 

Jemma gritted her teeth. 

“Honestly, you two are too similar for your own goods,” she muttered. “She’s pulling in on herself, just like you are, right now. Just like we’ve always done and promised not to do this time. She thinks you haven’t reached out to her because _you don’t want to._ She doesn’t want to interfere with _us.”_

Jemma gestured between herself and Fitz, and Fitz frowned. 

“You got all that from her sitting at a different table?”

“ _No,”_ Jemma muttered. “I had a conversation with her, about – about what Aida said. And what you said.” 

“What _I_ said?” 

“And that’s all I’m going to say on that,” Jemma concluded abruptly, and pressed her lips together firmly for a moment, for effect. “Go to her. Go on!” 

She jabbed her fork in Daisy’s direction. Fitz considered the goop that was probably once beans, that was now rapidly cooling on the metal tray before him. It looked, felt and tasted about as appealing as the upcoming conversation, but at least the conversation had the potential to improve somebody’s day. Dropping his spoon, Fitz stood. Then, rethinking, he picked up his tray and approached Daisy, falling short of casual as he slid onto the bench opposite her. 

Daisy looked up for a moment, caught his eye, and then returned her attention to her food, aimlessly mixing the tomato-ish concoction she had selected. 

“So, ah,” Fitz began. “I was just saying to Jemma maybe we should ask for some cocoa. I’ve been craving those cakes you used to make, you know? The ones in the microwave? In the, um, the mugs?” 

Daisy snorted. Fitz was a little tempted to try another joke, but there was not much to reference other than their rather unexciting food choices and the fact that they were, unofficially, being held prisoner. Instead, he slid a hand across the table, almost moving to take one of hers but doubting that he’d be allowed to. So he waited, and fixed large, pleading, apologetic and hopeful eyes on her.

“Look, Daisy, I… I’m really sorry for what happened in there. If there was any way to make it up to you I would, you know I would. I want to make things right between us, any way I can. _Please,_ just tell me what I can do.” 

Daisy looked away, blinking as if she felt guilty about it. 

“It’s not about what happened _in there,”_ she whispered, her voice tight and reluctant. “It’s about what happened out here, after. Don’t worry about it, I understand. I saw it coming. Just go back to Jemma, I’ll be fine.” 

Fitz frowned again, thinking back on what Jemma had said. What had he said to so offend Daisy when he’d been talking to Ophelia? She hadn’t even come up in the conversation. And that’s when his mouth went cold, and his stomach churned, and he knew he couldn’t blame the beans this time.

 _She hadn’t even come up._ Not out loud. Aida had not been aware of his attachment to Daisy, and so she’d fixated on Jemma, and had driven the conversation to fixate on her too.

“Daisy….” Fitz began again, realising his mistake. “Is this about-“ 

“’You only have room in your heart for _her,’”_ Daisy quoted quietly. She must have been playing it over and over in her mind, maybe even watching it on repeat, driving the knife deeper and deeper. (Just like Jemma had said – Daisy and him could be far too similar for their own good). 

“I’m sorry, Daisy,” Fitz said again, “but… I didn’t mean it like that. No! I mean. It’s not what it sounded like. I mean. Ah, there’s no way to say it without sounding like a jerk but I swear, Daisy… Just hear me out.” 

Daisy huffed and rolled her eyes, clenching her fists around the edge of her tray like she wanted to get up, but she didn’t. 

“I don’t want your platitudes Fitz, just let it go!” she begged, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave. More than anything, she wanted him to soothe her wounds, and she needed to believe it so much she held on, even if what he was about to say was going to hurt as much as she thought it was going to. 

“Look, it was Aida,” Fitz explained. “She got _obsessed_ with me and Jemma. She wanted to feel love and she knew I had it so she tried to figure out what I was attached to and she landed on Jemma. And she wasn’t wrong. But she fixated on it so much that she ignored everyone else I love, and in the Framework she _literally_ wrote herself into Jemma’s place. That’s what I was talking about when I was choosing her. Aida’s controlled life, or Jemma, and my real life. In a world where I chose Jemma I was raised by my Mum and I’m a good person, I think, and I joined Shield, and _I met you._ I couldn’t have done any of those things in a life with Aida, even one I willingly chose. Did you _see_ her go bonkers after that? Do you think she’d be okay with me loving you too? No way! She’d probably kill you in your sleep.” 

“She wishes.” Daisy rolled her eyes. “You know, she tried to tease me about you in the Framework, like she _had_ you and she knew all this about you that she got to parade around. I knew you’d never choose that. That’s why I threw her out that window. The consequences were a bit more drastic than I was expecting, but…” 

“But you were trying to protect me,” Fitz insisted. “You were sticking up for me. And hey, if you’d managed to kill her then, we could have avoided a lot of trouble.” 

Daisy blinked, taken aback.

“You sound weirdly okay with killing her – Jemma mentioned you weren’t so keen on the idea.” 

“I wasn’t,” Fitz confessed. “I don’t know, I just feel like, the things she wanted she could have learnt to get without hurting people. But, what’s done is done. And I did cool on her a bit when she promised to kill everyone I love in front of me and make me watch.”

Remembering the lingering way she’d kissed his cheek, with her hands viciously pinning his face to the wall, Fitz shuddered.

“That’s fucked up,” Daisy remarked. “And I’m glad she’s dead. I’m glad you’re okay, and you and Jemma –“

“And you. Who most certainly would have been next on her list, I’m sure of that,” Fitz promised. “She might not have guessed we were together, but she knew I cared about you. Even in there, she didn’t let us spend too long together. I was impressed by you, I remember. When you didn’t give up.” 

Blinking, he tried to recall the conversation. It was hazy, but he was quite sure – 

“Why didn’t you mention us? In there. You were trying to convince me that Jemma loved me and I loved her. You never mentioned yourself.” 

“I wanted to,” Daisy confessed, “but if you wanted to kill Jemma, there was no way in hell you’d remember me. I was being practical.” 

“You were being insecure.” Fitz took a chance, and closed the extra few inches between their hands. Daisy looked down at where their fingers were joined, and then back up. She didn’t bolt, though part of her still wanted to. This conversation was not going as she had expected, but she couldn’t help waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“The power of love was never going to be enough in there,” Fitz said. “But I wish you’d tried. And I wish I’d chosen my words more carefully. I wish a lot of things about all this could be different, but they’re not and they can’t be and I can’t take any of that back. But I love you. And I’ve never doubted that. And I’m really, really sorry if I’ve ever made you feel like less. I love you, and I need you, and I respect you, and I love you.”

“You said I love you twice.” 

“It’s been a while, I’m catching up.” Fitz’s lip twitched with a smile before returning to sincerity. “But honestly. Choosing Jemma meant choosing you too. All Aida wanted was to control me, to control my heart. Jemma has never wanted to do that. Neither have you. Jemma would never ask me to only have room in my heart for one person. That’s why she was the person I chose. So I could choose you too. That’s the long and short of it and I hope I’m being clear. If it was up to me, all three of us would be over there, eating our misery slop together.” 

Daisy took a moment to absorb the sentiment behind his words, and to squeeze his hand gently, accepting it. Then, never one to let a heavy mood last when she could help it, teased: 

“If it was up to you, you’d still choose space prison?”


End file.
